


The End Where She Begins Anew

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Post-Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6114555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Some claimed the commander went to Antiva, chasing after the assassin Zevran. One rumor suggested the pair engaged in a terrible showdown in the Antivan capital, and others say they took over the Crows. Perhaps they adventure together still.”<br/>-Awakenings Epilogue</p>
<p>Sometimes, all the rumors are true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Where She Begins Anew

The Architect and the Mother both lay dead in some disgusting fortress, the Grey Wardens are strong, and her Arl is flourishing.  And so Warden-Commander of Ferelden, Champion of Redcliffe, Hero of Ferelden, Paragon, Arlessa of Amaranthine, Princess Sereda Aeducan steps down from all her official posts and disappears.

Those few she knows and trusts know she went to Antiva to chase after someone, even if she isn’t forthcoming with details.  She assures them that she’ll be safe and that perhaps she’ll return and introduce them to an old companion of hers, one day. 

Sereda boards the ship with her swords hidden under her cloak, hood pulled over her face to hide her bright red hair and distinctive facial tattoos.  She doesn’t want anyone to recognize her, nor does she want him to know that she’s coming.  As excited as she is to see him again, she wants to surprise him.  This isn’t just a little visit.  Her life with Zevran is finally beginning.

Even the last letter she had sent him had been cryptic, ending, “ _I may be out of touch for a few weeks, don’t worry.  Be safe and watch your back._ ”  From what he had sent her, now was a good time to show up as well; he’s been killing off or blackmailing those who tried to kill him before, but he’s not in the middle of anything specific right now. 

“I don’t mind being pursued, but ah!  Imagine if they burst in while we were in the middle of lovemaking.  Most unpleasant,” Zevran had said before he left, and she knew that he also hadn’t wanted to risk bringing the Crows down on her budding order now that they had a permanent base.  It had been hard to let him go, but they both had had things to do.

Sereda spends most of the trip contemplating how best to surprise Zevran.  As excited as he would be to see her under any circumstances, she wants to make their reunion special. 

When she steps onto Antivan soil for the first time, it’s raining lightly.  She smiles as she remembers Zevran telling her that it’s always raining in Antiva, but the flowers are always blooming.  Even though she’s not one for omens, she takes it as a good sign. 

She finds an inn, not an expensive one, but one that’s clean enough, and pays for a room.  It’s odd.  No one recognizes her; no one asks her to turn their life around.  People mention the Hero of Ferelden- she and Alistair saved Antiva from the Blight, too- but no one connects the legend with the short and squat dwarf sitting in a corner quietly drinking her ale.

There are downsides to anonymity once she starts trying to hunt down Zevran- people aren’t falling over themselves to help her.  But she has plenty of gold, hidden away in the confines of her cloak, so people will talk to her even if they don’t recognize her. 

It takes a few days, but Sereda finds out where Zevran is staying- in a nice part of the city, she’s pleased to find out.  She watches from the shadows, heart thudding in painful happiness as he steps out into the street. 

It’s been so long since she’s seen him, but she recognizes him immediately.  His hair is a little shorter, and he’s still beardless, of course.  (Gorim had wryly commented on how hairless Zevran was once he learned of their relationship, and it still amuses her to this day)

She follows him at a distance.  It’s easy to hide at her stature, but she worries that if he catches sight of a dwarf sized figure following him, he’ll figure it out, or at least get suspicious.  She hasn’t seen many other dwarves in this part of Antiva City. 

Zevran goes into a building and Sereda lurks outside.  He’s in there for a few hours, so she finds a café and waits, sipping a brandy while she keeps an eye on the building.  It wouldn’t do for him to give her the slip already.  She already knows how she wants to approach him, and now she just has to wait.

He slips out the side door, and she almost misses him.  She gets up and starts to follow him again, in and out of several shops.  As they walk, she admires his lithe form, the surety with which he walks.  She had missed so much about him, and part of her wants to throw her plans away and run over to greet him right now.

Finally, he turns down a dim alley.  This is the moment that she’s been waiting for and she darts forward.  Sereda scans to make sure that he’s not meeting anyone here, and when she’s sure, she steps into the alleyway, swords drawn.

“Zevran Arainai,” Sereda says, just loud enough for him to hear.  She keeps her tone serious and firm.

He pauses, back ramrod straight.  Slowly, Zevran turns around and she sees a small smile on his face.  Good.

“The Grey Warden Commander has put a price on your head,” Sereda says, smiling back at him.  “I’ve come to collect.”

“Ah…” Zevran says, the smile now broad.  He pulls out his daggers.  “And how is the beautiful Grey Warden Commander?”

“She’ll be better once you’ve been taken care of,” Sereda says.  She wants to make sure he has time to tell her to stop if fake-assassination isn’t his idea of a good reunion. 

“How lucky for me, that she sent such a beautiful assassin to take care of me,” Zevran says, stepping towards her.  “Who can complain about dying, if the last face they see is so lovely?”

Sereda steps forward, giving a weak thrust to let Zevran know they’re starting.  He parries her easily and they start to fight in earnest. 

It feels like dancing, but better.  She was never much good at dancing, even when she was dancing with other dwarves.  Dancing with a terribly tall elf usually ends up being embarrassing and she inevitably messes it up.  Zevran manages to be graceful despite her bumbling, which makes her feel more embarrassed unless they’re alone or she’s well and truly drunk. 

_Fighting_ with Zevran is something totally different.  For one thing, she’s good at fighting.  It doesn’t make her feel awkward or ungainly.  For another, they know each other’s moves after those long months of fighting at each other’s side.  Each move seems to flow smoothly into the next, blocking and striking out in perfect harmony. 

During his time hunting the Crows, Zevran has picked up a few new tricks, which he clearly revels in showing off.  She knows he has to be careful because he didn’t get the chance to dull his blades like she did, but there’s a jolt of pleasure in her stomach when he uses trick she’s never seen before.  A mixture of pride, love, and arousal.

Zevran isn’t the only one who has picked up a few things.  Sereda has fought the Mother, the Architect, and a whole slew of new kinds of darkspawn.  To pull that off, she also had to learn a few more maneuvers.  It thrills her to show off a new move, enjoying the impressed look on his face.

They have matching smiles on their faces as they fight, and they are heedless of anyone else.  Even when they spill out into the square, Sereda is pretty sure that Zevran is the only other person who exists.  He’s smiling, elegant, and a whirl of silver blades and golden hair.

Eventually, Sereda wants to touch him, skin on skin and not blade on blade.  So, she moves into her endgame. 

Zevran throws a leg out to trip her up, and instead of jumping out of the way, Sereda lets it connect.  She rolls with it so she falls backwards under control.  Her blades clatter dramatically out of her hands and she smiles up at him.

He pins her down, pressing his blade to her throat, not hard enough to draw blood.  She can still feel it, though.

“I suppose this is the part where I beg for my life,” Sereda says dryly. 

“I have a better idea,” Zevran says, putting his daggers aside. 

Before Sereda can ask, Zevran kisses her, open mouthed and lascivious.  He tastes saltier than the last time they kissed, like the salt water from the sea has seeped into him, but there’s still that hint of sunshine. 

His hands are in her hair, like he’s forgotten what it felt like between his fingers.  Zevran is passionate but gentle, never pulling or yanking or demanding from her.  A hand slowly starts to explore her face and her neck in little touches that leave her breathless.

Sereda pulls him closer, fingers digging into his back.  She wants to feel him pressed up against her everywhere.

It rushes in on her; she’s finally home.  Ever since she was exiled from Orzammar, it’s been an impossible journey and she thought that she’d never feel comfortable anywhere again.  From the archdemon to rebuilding the Grey Wardens to the damned sky, everything has been so overwhelming.

Except for Zevran.  He’s one of the few people who has never really asked for much from her beyond acceptance.  His carefree, laidback demeanor helped her through one of the most tumultuous times in her life, and helped her take things in stride.  At some point, he became her home.

Zevran starts pressing his lips against her jawline, and she is aflame with pleasure.

“If you don’t stop,” Sereda manages to gasp, “we’re going to make love right here on the street.”

“I have no objections,” Zevran murmurs, voice hot in her ear.  “Do you?”

“No,” Sereda gasps. 

No one recognizes her here.  There aren’t going to be any whispers about the Hero of Ferelden fucking on the streets of Antiva because no one knows who she is.  What freedom.

She groans audibly as he slips a hand through her clothes to cup her breast.  His thumb brushes over her nipple and her fingers tighten against his back.  It’d be almost embarrassing how wet she is already, but Sereda has only had her hand for too long.  Plus, she can feel his erection, so she’s not the only desperate one.

Sereda rolls them slowly so that she’s on top.  It took some trial and error to figure out this is the most comfortable way for them to have sex, but at least it was fun. 

Zevran props himself up on one arm so he can keep kissing her.  His tongue darts into his mouth, and Sereda can’t take it anymore.  She needs him inside of her, now.

It’s easy enough to slip Zevran’s cock out of his pants.  She takes great delight in the whimpers that come from the back of his throat as she runs her fingers along the sensitive skin.  He’s already so hard for her.

His nimble fingers easily undo the fastenings on her pants and he slides them down with her smallclothes, making sure to skim his fingers over her bare skin.  The air is cool against her ass, and she realizes with a slight thrill that they’re really doing this. 

Nimble fingers stroke her entrance, skirting just close enough to her clit to make her moan in anticipation and then disappointment. 

“Already so wet,” Zevran says, sounding slightly dazed. 

“Missed you,” Sereda murmurs into his ear. 

She wonders if the skin right under his ear is still sensitive, so she sucks gently.  Her curiosity is rewarded with a low groan and Zevran’s fingers twitching against her slit. 

Sereda puts her hands on Zevran’s shoulders to steady herself as she pulls back just enough so she can get a good angle to slide herself slowly onto Zevran’s cock.  They both moan in unison, reveling in the familiar sensation. 

Her knees are digging painfully into the hard stone road beneath them, but Sereda doesn’t know the last time she felt this ecstatic.  Looking at Zevran’s face- smiling, all the way up to his eyes, all the way up to the laughter lines on his forehead- she suspects he’s as happy as she is.

When she starts to move, his eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip.  She watches how hard it is for him to swallow, the way he leans his head back like he wants to collapse into a puddle on the street.

She takes advantage of his bared throat and leans forward to lick a long stripe along it.  The salty taste almost makes her tongue tingle; her entire body feels too sensitive to bear.  From the fabric scratching against her skin to the way her curled toes are scraping against her shoes, her whole body is full of want and _need_ for Zevran.

Zevran slips his hand back into her clothes, stroking her breasts before skimming down to her belly.  He keeps his touches painfully feather light, and she can feel him laughing as she groans in frustration.  If she didn’t love him so much, she would hate him and his stupid, talented fingers. 

Finally, Zevran’s fingers find her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.  Suddenly, the glint in his eye seems much less wicked and much more benevolent.

Her hips are rocking against his in an increasing erratic rhythm.  She can feel the heat building in her stomach, and she presses down onto Zevran’s cock just as he strokes over her clit, sending her over the edge. 

Sereda does her best to stay quiet as she clenches around Zevran, but it’s hard because he keeps stroking her clit, trying to get every bit of pleasure out of her.  She muffles herself against Zevran’s neck as best she can.

Before she’s through, Zevran thrusts up into her, moaning her name in her ear as he reaches orgasm.  They’re both shaky and grinning as they come down from their orgasms.  She strokes his cheek, almost not believing that she’s really here with him.

Slowly, she starts to realize that they’re not alone.  That is what happens when you have sex on the street, she guesses.

Sereda can feel the heat on her face because she’s more than a little embarrassed. 

“I must say, mi amor, I am impressed by your dramatic streak.  That was quite a hello,” Zevran says.

“I wanted to make it special,” Sereda says.  “Do you want me to get off of you?”

“Not really,” Zevran says.  He looks away from her to look around at the people watching them.  It doesn’t surprise her that he seems more pleased than embarrassed.  “But, perhaps a little privacy is in order.”

“I agree.  I’ve got a lot more things I want to do to you, but the audience isn’t welcome to join us,” Sereda says, kissing his lips quickly before pulling off of him and getting up. 

They quickly pull their pants up, and Sereda notes with some relief that the onlookers are starting to dissipate.  She hopes that they enjoyed the show.

“Ah!  We have fans,” Zevran notes, picking up a coin from the street. 

“By the Ancestors!” Sereda says, blushing more. 

“I told you many times, in Antiva, we appreciate beauty,” Zevran says.  He’s grinning, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he doesn’t know how to stand still.  “And you are the most beautiful person to ever grace Antiva’s shores.”

“I should’ve known.  Although, it would’ve been nice if they didn’t steal our weapons,” Sereda says.  “I’ll replace them, though.”

“Don’t worry,” Zevran says.  “I have many daggers.”

Sereda grins and takes his hand as they start to walk.  “I do love a man who’s prepared.”

“So, to what do I owe the honor of a visit from the Warden Commander, the Hero of-“

Sereda nudges him to get him to shush.  Her endless string of increasingly grandiose titles amuses him as much as they tend to irritate her.  She’s always just wanted to do what needs to be done, never mind the fancy words.  “It’s just Sereda now.  I’ve stepped down from all my duties.”

“Really?” Even though she’s not looking at him, she can feel his raised eyebrow.

“The Blight is done for good this time and there are plenty of Grey Wardens in Ferelden now.  Vigil’s Keep is almost fully rebuilt.  Orzammar doesn’t need me right now.  There’s nothing that _I_ need to do, so I stepped down.  I mean, technically I keep the titles, but you know what I mean,” Sereda says.  “The only important thing I could think of was in Antiva.”

Sereda looks up to see him grinning ear to ear. 

“You are certain?” Zevran asks.  “I know how important rebuilding the Wardens is to you, not to mention the people in your Arl.”

“Zevran… there’s nowhere else I want to be other than with you,” Sereda says.  “If you want me around.”

“Yes,” Zevran says, squeezing her hand.  There’s so much earnestness and longing in that one syllable.  All the time that they spent apart, all the ink and parchment, poured into a single word.

“There’s always a chance…” Sereda hesitates because she doesn’t want to break the joyous mood of their reunion, but she decides to plow ahead anyway.  “They say that a Grey Warden can’t stay away, that the Taint draws us to fight darkspawn whether we want to or not, even before our Calling.  I doubt any other Grey Warden has had such a good reason to leave, though.”

Zevran is quiet for a minute before looking down at her slyly.  “I still have to take care of the Crows so they don’t bother us, but then the world will be ours.   There are many wonders that we haven't seen yet.”

She can imagine it.   The two of them exploring the world, beholden to nothing but themselves.   They could get into so much trouble.  But the very best kind. 

“I’ll help you with the Crows.  Anything you need,” Sereda says.

“The Crows have never faced such a difficult adversary.  I’m certain the leadership will be cowering in a week,” Zevran says grandly.

Sereda bumps against him playfully.  “You think it’ll take us a week?  You’re going soft, Zevran.”

Zevran chuckles.  “I’m taking the amount of sex we’ll have into account, my love.  I intend to test the full limits of that legendary Grey Warden stamina in ways that weren’t practical when we were sharing a tent.”

Sereda hums.  “I like the sound of that.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Zevran says. 

“I am too,” Sereda says.

For the first time in too long, she feels like she can just be herself.  There’s no world to save, no great destiny or duty pulling her one way or another.  Being a Grey Warden and stopping the Blight had been an important duty, but it had never been her free choice.  It had either been becoming a Grey Warden or death.

Everything is different now.  She chose to be here, to be with Zevran, to go after the Crows with him.  If Sereda wants to walk away, she can.  It’s freeing, even though she knows that she won’t go anywhere.  She gets to be a real person again. 

Her life is her own now.


End file.
